


En Passant

by Error401



Category: EXO (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Police, Angst and Humor, Emotional Manipulation, Evil Jin, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Interrogation, M/M, Manipulation, Murder, Plot Twists, Threats of Violence, Torture, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, criminal jimin, inspector jungkook
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-09-28 15:36:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10129157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Error401/pseuds/Error401
Summary: “Hey,” Jungkook said, voice low, “whatever he did, he didn’t deserve that.”“Oh?” Choi said, mouth twisting in amusement. “Did you know his boyfriend likes to sever heads and preserve them? I hear he’s got quite the collection.”Jungkook felt his eye twitch. “That’s disgusting, and also not funny.” He glanced at the crying boy, who’d now curled his legs up to fit on the chair, his feet bare and as tiny as the rest of him. Lines of red were spilling from under the cuffs, dripping onto the table. “I’m going to find a first aid kit and treat those.”“I wasn’t joking,” Choi said, as Jungkook slipped out of the room.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A smaller story inspired by Run 12

Recently promoted Inspector Jeon Jungkook didn’t know what to expect when Chief Kim ordered him to observe the questioning taking place in Interrogation Room 4. Room 4 was the worst of all the interrogation rooms, reserved only for the suspects least likely to break. It included the infamous wobbly chair, the terrible blinking lights, and air conditioning reminiscent of baking to death in the Sahara underneath the burning sun.

Whatever he was expecting as he cracked the door and slid silently inside to peer through the viewing window with a few others, none of it included a small, shaking boy, face scrunched up in pain as an aggressive Inspector Choi wrenched his head backwards with a handful of silver hair. Both hands were cuffed to the links in the table, but even if they weren’t, he would have had no chance to defend himself against the much larger man.

Jungkook took an instinctual step towards the glass, all of his gut telling him to rush inside and stop what was happening. That kind of rough treatment was solely for the most hardened of criminals, and there was no way this boy was one, not with the way tears were already pouring down the sides of his face. The rational side of his mind only just won out as he slumped and instead began to listen.

“I-I d-don’t kn-know!” the boy cried, whimpering as his hair was released, head falling forward. “I don’t know who you’re talking about!”

Something ugly must have shown on Jungkook’s face, because Inspector Chanyeol was giving him a knowing look as he glanced away from watching through the two-way mirror.  “He’s not what he looks like,” Chanyeol said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Whatever he is, Choi’s treating him like he’s the devil, or something,” Jungkook muttered, rubbing at the back of his neck and wincing as the boy was swatted on the side of the head.

“Nah, he’s not the devil,” Chanyeol snickered. “He just fucks the devil.”

Jungkook choked on his next breath.

“And believe me, the devil’s worn off on him,” Chanyeol said wryly.

Jungkook turned his attention back to the crying boy, unconvinced.

“We know you were the lookout, Park,” Choi snarled, slamming his hands down on the table and causing the boy to violently recoil in his chair. He wasn’t able to do much with his hands held in place. “Tell us what the plan was, and I’ll ask the prosecutors for leniency.”

“P-plan?” the boy sobbed. “I don’t—I was just taking a walk and—“

“Bullshit!” Choi roared, a vein popping against the skin of his neck.

“Please, I just want to go home!” the boy begged, pulling futilely at the handcuffs.

Jungkook’s brow furrowed in concern as the boy continued to pull, heedless of his skin breaking in the process. It was already too much, but he couldn’t just stand there and watch the kid hurt himself.

“Don’t do it,” Chanyeol warned. “Park Jimin is Class A, bona fide, one hundred percent sociopath. This is a game, Jeon, and he plays people like chess.”

Jungkook just couldn’t believe that.

The boy’s eyes widened as Choi approached him again, frantically pulling at the metal and getting nowhere. Choi squeezed the kid’s small jaw between his thumb and index finger and said something so low that Jungkook couldn’t hear it. Whatever it was, the kid began practically wailing, shivering so hard that his teeth clattered together, sweat dripping from his forehead.

Choi offered him a final disgusted look before stomping to the door, throwing it open and closed with a loud bang. “Little piece of shit,” Choi muttered, angrily running a hand through his hair.

“Don’t you think you were too rough?” Jungkook said immediately, mouth set in a thin line as the kid’s loud sobs continued to resonate throughout the room.

Choi scoffed, looking at Jungkook like he was an idiot. “Are you fucking kidding me, Jeon? Freak probably gets off on it.”

“Hey,” Jungkook said, voice low, “whatever he did, he didn’t deserve _that_.”

“Oh?” Choi said, mouth twisting in amusement. “Did you know his boyfriend likes to sever heads and preserve them? I hear he’s got quite the collection.”

Jungkook felt his eye twitch. “That’s disgusting, and also not funny.” He glanced at the crying boy, who’d now curled his legs up to fit on the chair, his feet bare and as tiny as the rest of him. Lines of red were spilling from under the cuffs, dripping onto the table. “I’m going to find a first aid kit and treat those.”

“I wasn’t joking,” Choi said, as Jungkook slipped out of the room.

It took him longer than he would have liked, but he didn’t want to ask for help in finding bandages and medicine. He was already insecure in his new position, and he didn’t want to look weak in front of any of the older guys. He found a small kit in the supply room. While there wasn’t much inside of it, he figured that treating scratches wouldn’t be that complicated. Granted, he couldn’t even boil water, so it didn’t take much for something to be complicated.

He slid back into the room with the first aid kit and a can of soda, only Chanyeol remaining to watch over the boy in the room.

“Jeon?” Chanyeol said, as Jungkook wrapped his hand around the knob.

Jungkook paused, turning his head to give Chanyeol his attention.

“Be careful, won’t you?” Chanyeol said lightly.

Jungkook nodded curtly, opening the door. The boy’s head jerked up in surprise, eyes wide and red as he watched Jungkook step inside. An unidentifiable flicker of emotion passed across his face, but it was gone as quickly as it had surfaced.

Jungkook reached into his belt to pull out his handcuff keys, and he felt bad for the way the boy flinched at his movement, like he was going to do something bad.

“I’m Inspector Jeon,” he said, feeling awkward as he fiddled with the small silver keys. “I’m going to unlock your hands, one at a time, and treat your injuries.”

“M-my…?” the boy stuttered, looking at Jungkook fearfully.

“You hurt yourself,” Jungkook said. “You didn’t notice?” He found that hard to believe. The blood was smeared under his wrists.

“Oh,” the boy said softly, shifting so that the collar of his loose white t-shirt gaped open slightly. “I guess…I didn’t feel it because e-everything else h-hurts more.”

“Everything else?” Jungkook said, immediately on alert. “Where else are you hurt?”

The boy shrugged. “That last m-man wasn’t n-nice to me,” he whispered.

“Okay,” Jungkook said, sighing. “Okay, I’ll treat your wrists first, and then we’ll deal with the rest.” He set the kit and soda down on the table. As he reached for the boy’s left wrist, the boy leaned as far away from him as he could.

“Please don’t hurt me,” he said, eyes tearing up once again.

“I’m not—“ Jungkook sighed, trying to make his voice softer. “I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to stop you from bleeding all over the table. It’s unsanitary.”

The boy looked at him for a moment, as though searching for something, before he finally nodded jerkily. “O-okay…”

Jungkook reached out slowly to unlock one of the boy’s cuffed hands, wincing at the full view of the bloody abrasions. “Ouch.”

The boy watched him closely as Jungkook opened the first aid kit and pulled out a tube of ointment, dabbing it messily over his wrist. He then pulled a roll of bandages, wrapping them haphazardly around the damaged area. “You’ve…never done this before, have you?” the boy questioned.

“I put the cuffs on the bad guys. Someone else usually deals with the other stuff,” Jungkook said. He set the roll down and pushed the soda towards Jimin. “Drink some of this before I do the other one.”

The boy hesitated, eyes narrowing for a brief moment before he wrapped his free hand around the can. “Thank you,” he said softly. “Umm…I’m Jimin. I guess…someone out there already told you that, though.”

“Hi Jimin, I’m Inspector Jeon,” Jungkook said.

“You sound so stiff,” Jimin giggled. “It’s not like I’m a scary criminal, or something.”

“Right…” Jungkook said uncertainly.

“Inspector Jeon?” Jimin said suddenly, biting down on his bottom lip and looking up at Jungkook through his lashes. “It’s really, _really_ hot in here.” Jimin brought the can to his neck, pressing the cold surface to his skin and letting out a little moan.

Jungkook swallowed, averting his eyes and suddenly feeling the heat himself.

“Yeah, well, you’re not on vacation,” Jungkook said.

“Inspector,” Jimin whined, setting the can down on the table. “It…it’s really making it h-hurt…” he trailed off, resting a hand over his abdomen, fingers curling into his shirt.

Jungkook immediately stepped closer, filled with an unusual amount of concern. “What hurts?” Choi may have broken the kid’s ribs, or something, and he didn’t need a punctured lung on his hands.

“I c-can’t really explain,” Jimin said, eyes dropping to the table. “I-it…just… _hurts_ ,” he said, voice breaking.

“Okay, okay,” Jungkook panicked. “Let me see,” he said, reaching for the hem of Jimin’s shirt. He gently raised the fabric, leaning down to catch sight of any major damage. His brow furrowed when all he exposed was perfect golden skin, interrupted only by a purple handprint sitting at his tiny waist. “Where—“

Warm, wet lips pressed against own, teeth biting at his bottom lip and drawing blood.

Jungkook threw himself backwards, heart racing, to the sound of warm, pretty laughter. Jimin’s eyes were scrunched together as he smiled, licking his lips as his body shook, now with amusement. “They don’t train them like they used to,” Jimin said, eyes flicking to the mirror. “But they didn’t used to look like _you_ , either.”

“Y-you—“ Jungkook spluttered, wiping the blood away from his mouth with the back of his hand.

Jimin nonchalantly popped the tab of the soda can with his index finger and thumb, taking a large sip. “Inspector, you know your fly is open?”

Jungkook’s eyes immediately shot downward, only to hear that pealing laughter again.

“Just kidding,” Jimin giggled.

“What the fuck,” Jungkook said.

“You know, at first I thought you were just playing good cop,” Jimin said, pressing the can to his chest again. “But then, I realized that you were being genuine. I like that in a man. So I decided to be genuine, too.”

“You motherfucker,” Jungkook said, stunned. He got played so easily. By a _kid_.

“Ew,” Jimin said, wrinkling his small nose. “I guess you would have preferred I keep playing the part? Men love that, don’t they? The cute, innocent, woe-is-me act? Some weird, virginal, purity thing? Well. I can keep it up if you want me to.”

“I don’t want anything but to shoot you,” Jungkook said, stomping over and forcing Jimin’s hand back to the table, roughly cuffing it again.

“Ah—ow—“ Jimin complained, pouting his full lips. “I-Inspector, p-please, not so rough…”

Jungkook just glared at him as he unlocked the right cuff and began to treat that wrist.

“Jimin w-was b-bad,” Jimin continued, fluttering his lashes. “But he’ll be good from now on, he promises,” Jimin said, voice sickly-sweet.

“Shut the fuck up,” Jungkook said bluntly.

“Ah, it’s okay, I was lying, anyway,” Jimin said, laughing.

Jungkook finished wrapping the wrist and moved to lock it down again, but Jimin resisted that time.

“Can I finish my soda, at least?” Jimin said, eyes projecting desperation. “I wasn’t lying about the being hot part!”

Jungkook sighed, rolling his eyes, but he didn’t want Jimin fainting from heat stroke, either. “Hurry up.”

Jimin smiled brightly and returned to sipping the can. “Hopefully by the time I’m done, Jinnie will be able to spring me. I don’t want to waste any more of your…valuable time.”

“Jinnie?” Jungkook said, slumping into the chair on the opposite side of the table.

“Wow,” Jimin said, eyes wide. “They didn’t even tell you _that_? Exactly how low are you on the totem pole?”

Jungkook grimaced, remaining silent.

“Jinnie is…well…” Jimin said, brow furrowed in thought, “the best? He’s really handsome, and really mean, and he makes a lot of bad jokes, and, well…you people _say_ he’s done some really scary things. Can’t prove it, though, can you? And so you meanies drag me in here and ruin my perfectly good afternoon.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook grunted, eyes bored.

“I know how you can make it up to me, though, inspector,” Jimin said, smiling suggestively. “The kiss was nice, wasn’t it? Imagine getting the rest, too,” he said, widening his legs and leaning forward over the table.

“No thanks,” Jungkook said.

Jimin pouted. “You’re so boring.”

The door opened, and Chanyeol popped his head inside. Jungkook watched as Jimin’s eyes widened with interest. “Park’s getting released.” Jungkook stood up quickly.

“Great!” Jimin chirped. “Guess I don’t need these, then,” he said, dropping Jungkook’s handcuff keys on the table.

Jungkook stared, patting at his pockets and coming up empty.

“I’m glad I didn’t have to hurt you, Jeon,” Jimin smiled sweetly. “If the other mean one had come back, he wouldn’t have been so lucky. He hit me a lot, and I don’t like that from anyone but Jinnie.”

“Kid, are you seriously threatening an officer of the law while handcuffed to a table in the middle of a police station?” Jungkook said incredulously.

“Kid?” Jimin said, tilting his head. “Exactly how old you think I am, inspector?”

Jungkook hesitated. He was tired of being shown up by this criminal.

“Older than you, inspector,” Jimin said simply. “Maybe you should be more respectful. Jinnie doesn’t like it when people are mean to me.”

Before Jungkook could respond, Chanyeol moved to unlock the remaining cuff. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

“A gentleman as always, Inspector Park,” Jimin said sweetly. “Tell Baekhyun I said hi.”

Chanyeol visibly stiffened as he led Jimin out through the door.

“What the fuck,” Jungkook sighed, half-sitting on the table.

After a few minutes, Chanyeol returned, leaning against the table next to him. “I think an ‘I told you so’ is in order.”

“Park Jimin is something else,” Jungkook said, shaking his head, phantom lips mouthing at his own.

“You had to experience it yourself to believe it,” Chanyeol nodded. “He’s good. He’s done a shit ton of illegal crap, but Kim Seokjin’s lawyers always get him off. Still, the higher ups keep going after him, because he’s the only one other than Kim who knows everything. Who could bring the whole operation down. You can imagine the surprise of everyone when he didn’t break. He won’t break. Instead, he breaks people.”

“What the fuck,” Jungkook repeated.

Chanyeol shook his head and clapped Jungkook on the shoulder. “At least he likes you. The last person he disliked ended up with a slit throat.”

Jungkook turned his head sharply. “What?!”

Chanyeol shrugged. “I mean, the guy survived, he just doesn’t talk much anymore. Works traffic down in the third district.”

Jungkook fought back the shiver that sent goosebumps pimpling his spine. “What the fuck. How about somebody _tells me this shit_ before I antagonize a serial killer?”

Chanyeol shrugged. “You only have to worry if he tells Kim Seokjin about it. He’s the serial killer.”

“Oh, right, I _only have to worry_ then,” Jungkook said, grinding his teeth together. “I hate you all.”

Chanyeol chuckled. “By the way, the guys want Starbucks, so go fetch, rookie,” he said, stuffing a few bills into Jungkook’s back pocket. “Watch out, lover boy might still be hanging around.”

“You’re way too fucking nonchalant about this,” Jungkook grumbled, grabbing his handcuff keys from the table.

“He likes me,” Chanyeol said. “Choi might want to consider investing in better health insurance.”

“What the fuck,” Jungkook sighed, shaking his head as he stomped through the door.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Recently promoted Inspector Jeon Jungkook grimaced as he downed yet another shot, slamming the little glass cup onto the table as the rest of the division cheered him on. He wanted to outdrink them all purely out of spite, refusing to be bested by the more experienced men.

“So, it’s been a month, Jeon,” Inspector Lee said, offering him a wide smile. “You haven’t gotten shot, and you’ve sent three bad guys to prison. How do you feel?”

“Fine,” Jungkook shrugged, rolling his neck to release some of the tension built up in his muscles.

“Fine? _Fine_? That’s already a great record,” Lee insisted, pouring him another shot. “What more could you want? A gold medal?”

“Kim Seokjin,” Jungkook muttered, causing Inspector Park Chanyeol, sitting on his right, to cough into his drink.

“Yah, don’t say that out loud in a place like this,” Chanyeol hissed.

“Don’t we all wish that,” Inspector Choi said bitterly. “Unfortunately, fucker’s got friends in all places, both high and low.”

Jungkook took another drink as the memory of the dismembered drug dealer pushed at the forefront of his thoughts. The death hadn’t been quick, it had been _cruel_. Jeon Jungkook didn’t care about a lot of things, but justice was one of them.

“Oh?” a high-pitched voice said from behind Jungkook. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. He would recognize that voice anywhere. “Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise! Brave, noble policemen visiting my place of business? How lucky!”

Inspector Choi jumped to his feet, face already darkening with anger. “Park Jimin,” he spat the name like it was a curse.

“Oh, don’t look at me all scary like that, mister,” Jimin said, faking a shiver. Jungkook turned his head to find the boy twirling a bubblegum pink strand of hair around a tiny finger. It was probably just another tool in his arsenal of bogus innocent acts. From his angle, he couldn’t tell what Jimin was wearing below the waist, but if it was anything like the tight, silky black shirt barely covering his torso, then he knew that a few people at the bar would get into trouble that night. “This is my bar, you know. Jinnie gave it to me for my birthday. If you’re going to cause trouble, then I might have to call some real police over,” he teased. “How about this?” He snapped his fingers, catching the attention of a trembling waiter. “Give them whatever they order, on the house,” he smiled beatifically. “My gift to Gangnam’s finest.”

“We can’t accept—“ Jungkook began.

“Thanks, Jimin,” Chanyeol cut him off, offering Jimin a bright smile. “What?” he shrugged at Jungkook’s glare. “You’d be doing more damage by spending all his money than by refusing it.”

“That’s why you’re my favorite detective, fellow Park,” Jimin giggled. “Always so easy.” He glanced down at Jungkook, eyes and lips conveying nothing but unadulterated lust. “You have a good night, Inspector Jeon.” He glanced at Inspector Choi. “You, not so much.”

“Fuck you, too,” Inspector Choi muttered, unhappily sitting back down.

“You wish,” Jimin smiled unkindly. “That offer only extends to one person at this table,” he said slyly, running an obvious finger across the side of Jungkook’s neck. Jungkook squirmed, wrenching his head away from the contact.

“Hands to yourself,” Jungkook growled.

Jimin’s lips formed a pout as he raised his hands defensively into the air. “As you wish, Inspector Jeon.” Without another word, he was melting into the crowd.

“Whore,” Inspector Choi muttered.

“I can’t even pay my rent, and this fucker already has everything handed to him,” Inspector Kim Jonghyun sighed.

“You really think Kim Seokjin gives him anything for free?” Chanyeol said, raising his eyebrows. “I don’t think any of us could do what Park Jimin does.”

“What the fuck,” Jungkook said, annoyed. “Are you on his side, or something? You’re always defending him!”

“I’m not on his side,” Chanyeol huffed in sad amusement. “He’s a bad person. I just recognize that there are often reasons why people become bad and that maybe, we were lucky that we never had to make that kind of choice.”

Chanyeol’s words were sobering, so they called for more alcohol.

“Where’d Choi go?” Inspector Yook asked, looking around blearily. In the midst of all the drinking, the older man had disappeared. Jungkook hadn’t even seen him leave.

“He got a phone call that looked important,” Inspector Lee said, chewing at a piece of dried squid. “Maybe he went to take it.”

Jungkook’s gut was sending him a bad feeling. It probably had to do with the fact that Choi and Park Jimin were out and about in the same location, which could never end well.

“I’m…bathroom…” Jungkook grunted, standing on unsteady legs as he headed through the crowd. Chanyeol watched him go with knowing eyes.

 The heat was oppressive and the lights were disorienting as he shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts from the fuzz of the alcohol. He took a few laps around the building, but he still wasn’t able to spot either of them. Frowning, he decided to check outside.

“…is she?!”

Jungkook’s frown deepened as he caught wind of the raised, angry voice sounding from the side of the club. He increased his pace as he rounded the corner, but he was too late to stop Inspector Choi from lodging a fist in the side of Park Jimin’s face.

“Hey!” Jungkook shouted, rushing over to pull the inspector away from the much smaller man, who was coughing up blood on the cement. Jungkook prayed that it was only from a cut lip and not internal bleeding, or something. “What the fuck is going on here!?”

Jimin laughed even as blood dripped from the sides of his mouth and ran down his chin, looking up at Jungkook from where he lay on the ground. “I think mister meanie here is confused about something,” he said breathlessly, one small hand slipping down to clutch at his side.

“Where is she?!” Choi shouted, rushing for Jimin again and managing a kick to his abdomen before Jungkook was able to get hands around his middle and yank him back.

“Hyung, calm the fuck down!” Jungkook growled, throwing him into the wall and restraining his arms behind his back.

“No!” Choi screamed, pupils blown as he fought to get out of the hold. “He has my daughter! He has my fucking daughter!”

“What?” Jungkook breathed, heart dropping into his stomach.

“Youngji called and said Sooyoung wasn’t at her academy when she went to pick her up! Who could have her but that sick son of a bitch!” he growled.

“Is that true!?” Jungkook called to Jimin, who let out a pained whimper as he sat up. He didn’t actually expect an honest answer, but maybe he could find some logic somewhere in the middle of this clusterfuck.

“No,” Jimin said with difficulty, shaking his now-messy pink head. “Jinnie loves kids. He would _never_ hurt one. Never a little girl, never!”

Jungkook was probably an idiot, but he believed that Jimin believed that, if nothing else.

“He’s lying! He’s _lying_!” Choi raved.

“I’m not!” Jimin coughed, wiping at the blood but only managing to smear it across his face. “The only person who’s going to get hurt now is _you_ ,” he spat, but still succeeded in plastering on his smiling mask. “I was going to let your behavior at the station go, because I’m actually really nice. But I changed my mind.”

“Jimin!” someone called, and the three of them turned to see another man racing into towards them, dropping to his knees to pat frantically over Jimin’s injured body. Satisfying himself that Jimin wasn’t in mortal danger, he turned to narrow his eyes at the two other men. “You did this?” he said darkly.

“Hoseokie hyung,” Jimin said, curling his fingers into the man’s shirt. “They’re from the Gangnam police station. Beating innocent people up outside of working hours will get you a suspension at the least, won’t it?”

“I think it can get you fired, Jiminnie,” Hoseok answered, eyes not leaving Jungkook and Inspector Choi. “I wouldn’t be worried about my job, though. I’d be worried about hyung seeing your poor face like this,” he said gently, cupping Jimin’s cheek in a tan, long-fingered hand.

“You’re dead, you little fucker!” Choi shouted, managing to throw Jungkook off and heading for Jimin once again.

The man Jimin had called Hoseokie rose gracefully from his kneeling position to stand protectively in front of him, murder in his eyes.

The tension was pierced by a phone call, the device buzzing in Choi’s pocket. He scrambled to answer it, nearly dropping it as his hand shook with anxiety and adrenaline. “Youngji!...I…She is? Oh, thank fuck, okay…okay…No, I…I have something to deal with, but I’ll be home later, alright? Okay…Love you, too.” With a heavy sigh, he ended the call, shoving the phone back in his pocket.

“I told you so,” Jimin said, smile looking more like a smirk. “You didn’t have to hurt me at all, you meanie! Why…why does everyone want to hurt me?” he said dejectedly, hanging his head. His breaths were loud and pain-filled as he struggled to take in enough air.

“Get out of here,” Jungkook said after a moment of silence.

“Jeon,” Choi said, voice filled with regret and hesitation.

“Just go already, hyung!” Jungkook growled.

Choi ducked his head as he edged around Hoseok and Jimin’s crumpled form, walking away on unsteady legs.

“Inspector Jeon?” Jimin said.

“What?” Jungkook said bluntly.

“Thank you…for helping me. I know you don’t like me, so…” Jimin trailed off.

“Jimin, we should get you to the doctor,” Hoseok pressed, gently and carefully helping Jimin to his feet, the boy biting down on his bottom lip to hold back pained noises.

“I want Inspector Jeon to take care of me,” Jimin pouted.

“Jimin, you can’t trust a cop!” Hoseok protested.

“No,” Jungkook said. “Go home, Jimin.”

Jimin frowned, something dark flickering his eyes. “That meanie has a family, right? Youngji and…Sooyoung? I wonder if it’ll be really hard to go home and have mean daddy not be there anymore.”

Jungkook swallowed, nausea rising in his throat. “Yah—“

“Maybe I could forget about all this and tell Jinnie it was just somebody who wanted to fuck me and got too rough again,” Jimin said. “I could tell Jinnie that Hoseokie took care of the problem, and he would have no reason to dig deeper into it. I could do that. I would do that for you, Inspector Jeon.”

“Jimin,” Hoseok sighed. “Why do you always make me lie?”

“Because Jinnie wouldn’t kill you for a lie,” Jimin said sweetly, pushing onto his toes to press a chaste kiss to Hoseok’s cheek.

“You can’t just—“ Jungkook protested.

“I can do anything,” Jimin grinned, the dried and cracking blood making it a ghastly sight. “Jinnie says I can, so I can.”

Jungkook ground his teeth together, faced with an impossible situation. To give in would be unethical, to not give in would be immoral. “I’m not sleeping with you,” Jungkook said.

Jimin’s grin brightened. “Of course! Not on the first date, Inspector Jeon! What kind of man do you think I am?”

“I haven’t quite figured that out yet,” Jungkook muttered, approaching them slowly.

Jimin reached his hands out with grabbing motions, and it took Jungkook a moment to understand what he wanted.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Jungkook said.

“Carry me!” Jimin demanded. “Everything hurts, and I’m tired!”

Jungkook couldn’t help but notice that he was acting even more petulant than before. “Before that, what do you want? Where are we going?”

“Home!” Jimin chirped. “Your home!”

Jungkook sighed, closing his eyes as he rubbed at his forehead. Pulling out his phone, he called for a taxi, sending a quick text to Chanyeol that he wasn’t coming back.

“Jimin, this is really stupid,” Hoseok said, glancing suspiciously at Jungkook. “You don’t know what he’s capable of! He could hurt you!”

“Are you going to hurt me, Inspector Jeon?” Jimin questioned, eyes wide and imploring.

“…No,” Jungkook said. “I won’t hurt you, Park Jimin.”

“See?” Jimin said. “Now carry me!”

Jimin forced Jungkook to hold him while they waited, and even when they climbed into the taxi. Jungkook was worried he would try something, but to Jungkook’s surprise, the worst Jimin did was rest his head against Jungkook’s chest and cling to him tightly. By the time they arrived at Jungkook’s apartment, Jimin was asleep, or at least doing a very good job of faking it.

Jungkook tried to carry him gently, fighting back a groan as he pressed the necessary elevator buttons, muscles straining. Jimin was as light as a child, but he’d been holding him for a while. It was only as he lay Jimin down on his lumpy couch that his hands accidentally brushed against something hard. Curious and concerned, Jungkook’s eyes widened as he pulled the thin switchblade from Jimin’s waistband.

“Feeling me up while I’m asleep? Not very nice, Inspector,” Jimin said sleepily, eyes judging as Jungkook held the weapon.

“Where the fuck did you get this?” Jungkook said.

“Found it,” Jimin yawned. “It’s a good thing you came to help little old me when you did, otherwise I’d have been forced to defend myself.”

Jungkook tried not to let his blood run cold.

Jimin groaned as he turned on his side, face scrunching with pain. “Ah, I hate it when they get too rough with me,” Jimin mumbled, hugging one of Jungkook’s stained throw pillows to his chest.

“I’ll get some stuff,” Jungkook muttered, retreating to the kitchen. He let his head rest against the freezer door for a moment before he was able to open it. He dug around, pulling out his one legitimate ice pack and a few bags of frozen vegetables. He grabbed a clean dish towel and filled a bowl with cold water.

Jimin’s face was already swollen, his right cheek painted with a massive bruise and the side of his jaw a violent red. Jungkook sat on the coffee table in front of the couch, dipping the towel in the water and wiping gently at the blood staining Jimin’s face.

“Ah,” Jimin complained, eyes squeezing tightly together. “Hurts.”

“Shush,” Jungkook said, pressing the ice pack to Jimin’s cheek.

“But why are you acting like I’m in the wrong!?” Jimin whined. “Your hyung attacked me for no reason! He’s always had it out for me! This isn’t fair! I didn’t do anything!”

“I’m sure you’ve done _something_ ,” Jungkook said, shaking his head. “But…you’re right. You didn’t deserve this. He was out of line. If you want to file a report, I’ll back up your story.”

Jimin’s eyes widened in surprise. “You would do that?”

“It’s the right thing to do,” Jungkook said.

Jimin hummed, eyes unfocused as Jungkook continued to pat at his face.

“Take your shirt off,” Jungkook commanded.

“I don’t wanna’,” Jimin said immediately.

“I don’t care what you want, I care what your ribs need,” Jungkook shot back.

Jimin sighed, chewing at his bottom lip before he nodded hesitantly. Jungkook leaned in to help him take it off and narrowly dodged a pair of lips coming straight for his own.

“You’re learning,” Jimin giggled mischievously. “I like that.”

Jungkook frowned and shook his head as Jimin pulled his shirt off on his own, groaning in pain the entire time. The right side of his chest and abdomen was riddled with deep bruises, one in the clear shape of a shoe. “Fuck,” Jungkook winced. “How are you not passed out right now?”

“I’ve had worse,” Jimin said lightly, looking down at the bruises and tracing them with his fingers.

Jungkook thrusted a few bags of frozen vegetables into Jimin’s lap, causing him to jump. “Apply,” Jungkook said.

As Jimin lay down and adjusted the melting vegetable bags, Jungkook’s eyes caught on a faint scar that he hadn’t seen before, at the junction of Jimin’s neck and shoulder. A bite mark.

Jimin must have noticed him staring. There wasn’t much that Jimin didn’t notice. “Isn’t it pretty?” Jimin said. “Jinnie gave it to me.”

“It’s disturbing,” Jungkook grunted. “That would hurt like hell. If he likes you so much, I’d think he’d want to avoid that.”

“Yeah…” Jimin shrugged, face falling. “But I’m special, and he wanted me to know that. His love is special, too. I never want to take it for granted. I love him with all my heart. But…” he sighed, and Jungkook couldn’t honestly tell if this was part of the act or not, “But I just wanted to sleep, Inspector Jeon. That’s why I came here. I just…wanted to sleep.”

Jungkook considered him a moment before nodding. “I’ll get you a blanket. Please don’t kill me in my sleep.”

Jimin was gone in the morning, along with twenty thousand won from his wallet.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this, you'll like my Kickstart series.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> graphic violence

Recently enamored Park Jimin woke to a large hand wrapped around his throat. It wasn’t squeezing, just pressing down, holding him tightly against the silk of his sheets.

Jimin quickly schooled his expression into one of placid calm rather than the annoyance he was really feeling, though he was sure Jin must have seen it. He blinked up at Jin expectantly, waiting for the other to speak as he gave him his undivided attention.

Jin was always so handsome. It made Jimin feel a bit sick sometimes from how badly he wanted to ruin it.

“You’re hurt, Minnie,” Jin said, eyes deceptively soft as the pads of his fingers flexed against the column of Jimin’s neck. “What use are you if you’re not pretty anymore?”

“You do know that wounds heal,” Jimin said, voice thick with sleep, fighting back the urge to roll his eyes.

“Yes, but I have to look at this mess in the meantime,” Jin said, sliding the hand up to brush across Jimin’s swollen face. Even after an entire day of rest, everything still looked puffy. “It’s ugly.”

“So mean,” Jimin pouted, pressing his face into Jin’s hand even over the pain it caused. “Who told you?” He supposed it didn’t matter, though. Jin knew, either way.

“What would you do to them if I told _you_?” Jin said, fingers tracing Jimin’s split bottom lip. “Could I watch?”

“You’re such a pervert,” Jimin chuckled.

“I don’t like that word,” Jin said, one eyebrow quirked. “Don’t use it.”

Jimin sighed, unable to prevent the eye roll this time. “Yes, yes, hyung.”

Jin stood from Jimin’s bed, unbuttoning his shirt sleeves and rolling the fabric to a cuff at his elbows. He hummed a nonsensical tune, and Jimin could only watch as he waited for whatever it was Jin was going to do. “I brought you something,” Jin said.

Jimin’s eyes widened with interest, scooting carefully to the edge of the large bed as his body screamed in pain. “A present?”

“I suppose that depends,” Jin said, a little smirk lighting up his handsome face. “Taehyung,” he called.

Jimin’s attention flickered to the bedroom door, where Taehyung entered, holding the mister meanie inspector in a fireman’s carry. “Oh?” Jimin said, pulse quickening at the thought of finally getting his hands around—

Jimin sighed, remembering his promise to Jungkook. “Ah,” he muttered, perking up. He only promised not to tell. And he didn’t, did he? Jin found out all on his own.

“What?” Jin said, eyeing him strangely.

“Jinnie hyung, you aren’t going to get blood all over my carpet again, are you?” Jimin complained, making sure to look at Jin from his cutest angle.

“I’ll buy you a new one, sweetie,” Jin said, reaching out to caress the top of Jimin’s head. “Don’t you want to help me do this? We haven’t spent much time together this month. I’ve missed looking at you.”

“And whose fault is that?” Jimin mumbled. He turned his head as Taehyung waved enthusiastically at him before dumping the heavier body onto the floor with a loud thunk. “But hyungie, you know if you make him disappear, I’ll be the first one they suspect,” Jimin pointed out. “I’m so tired of those policemen being mean to me.” Except the one. Jimin wouldn’t mind if Inspector Jeon was mean to him, because it would mean that he was getting under his skin. And how delicious it would be…

Jin considered him a moment before smiling warmly. “I’ll have someone confess, then. That should keep them busy. Is that okay with you, sweetheart?”

Jimin felt his smile growing more sinister as he nodded, getting gingerly to his feet so that he could wrap his arms around Jin’s torso and press his head to Jin’s chest. “You smell good,” Jimin said sleepily. Expensive cologne and the metallic tang of blood. It was all Jin.

“You always get clingy when you’re about to hurt someone,” Jin laughed, a high-pitched chuckle that didn’t match his face at all. “Or just watch, I suppose. I know you like to watch. This is your present, so I’ll let you do what you want.”

“I don’t like mister meanie,” Jimin said, snuggling closer. “He pulls me into the station for no reason all the time. He hits me a lot. He calls me bad names. He threatens to do naughty things to me,” Jimin said softly, remembering the pain from a few nights ago and the warmth of Inspector Jeon’s hands. “The last person who was that mean to me was daddy, and I sliced his ugly fingers off while he was sleeping.”

“Should I leave, or did you need some help with this?” Taehyung said, hands on his hips as he nudged the slowly-awakening man with his shoe.

“What do you want, Minnie?” Jin asked softly, running fingers through his hair, snagging a few knots and pulling them out painfully.

Jimin considered his options for a moment. “Tae Tae, do you want to stay with me?”

“Always,” Taehyung grinned, striking face lighting up with good humor. Jimin knew that Jin kept him around because he was so good looking, otherwise he’d probably have sewn his mouth shut a long time ago.

“Then I want you to help Jinnie while I sit here,” Jimin said, letting go of Jin and shuffling back to sit on his bed. “He made everything hurt real bad, so I don’t wanna’ move. Even breathing hurts, Tae Tae. Will you punish him for me?”

“Punish? Oh, sure, Minnie,” Taehyung said gleefully. “Buy me some pizza later!”

“Jinnie,” Jimin said, turning his attention to the older man. “He made me ugly. He made something of yours ugly.”

Jin’s eyes narrowed. He probably knew that Jimin was just trying to manipulate him. No, he definitely knew. But Jin didn’t need much of an excuse to be cruel. It was in his blood. Jimin liked that about him. “Well, that just won’t do,” Jin said, shaking his head.

“Wakey-wakey,” Taehyung said, leaning over to pat at the man’s cheek.

He came to with a start, eyes wide and fearful as his body twisted and he discovered he was bound tightly. He screamed behind the gag, Taehyung giving him a disgusted look as he stepped over him and moved to stand by Jin.

“Hey, meanie,” Jimin said, tilting his head to the side.

The man’s terrified eyes met his own, recognition lighting them.

“I hope Sooyoung ended up okay,” Jimin said, offering him a gentle smile. “I hope you hugged her tight and gave her a kiss before you left your house this morning.”

The man struggled futilely as Jin stepped closer, looking at him with a critical eye. “You’re so much bigger than my Minnie,” Jin said, crouching down next to the inspector and brushing a lock of dark hair out of his eyes. “You’re so much bigger, but you didn’t care, did you? You only wanted to hurt. You wanted my sweet boy to cry out in pain and give in to you. You wanted something that doesn’t belong to you. Something that will never belong to you.”

Jimin’s breath quickened as Jin stood once more, tall and imposing and broad and polished and cold and so _handsome_.

“You’ve ruined something that belongs to _me_ ,” Jin said, pressing a polished shoe against the man’s neck and pressing down until he gurgled, until he began to turn red, until his veins protruded under his skin. He lifted his foot right before the man passed out, heaving ugly, drooling breaths around the gag. “Something as ugly as you tried to…” Jin scoffed.

“What do you prefer, Jimin?” Taehyung said, rubbing his hands together. “Fingers or toes?”

“Oh, toes is interesting!” Jimin said, resting a hand lightly against his swollen cheek. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone do toes!”

“It’s so fun! Plus, if you use something heavy instead of something sharp, then you don’t get blood all over the floor!” Taehyung said.

“There’s a hammer in the living room,” Jimin offered. “In the closet? I used it to hang up those paintings hyung won at the auction. They’re pretty,” he said, smiling at Jin.

“Only pretty people deserve pretty things,” Jin said. “Too bad you’re ugly right now.”

“Hyung!” Jimin whined, rubbing painfully at his bruises like it would somehow erase them.

“I think you’re pretty, Jimin,” Taehyung called as he left the room in search of the hammer.

“You just want pizza!” Jimin yelled back.

The man on the floor was sweating profusely as his eyes moved back and forth between Jimin and Jin. For a moment, they dared to look pleading as they settled on Jimin for longer than a second. Jimin’s lip curled.

“Jinnie, should I tell him about the last police man who was mean to me?” Jimin said.

“I’m sure he’d love to hear the story, sweetheart. Even with that ugly face, your voice is still so pretty.”

Jimin’s expression soured momentarily before he focused his gaze back on the shaking man. “One of your friends tried to be mean to me, too,” Jimin began, swinging his legs back and forth over the edge of the bed. “He thought I was a prostitute, I guess. I didn’t much appreciate all those suggestive things he whispered in my ear as he pushed me into his car. But, I was sweet to him, anyway. I’m sweet to everyone, don’t you think? It’s not that hard to get along with me. But somehow…” Jimin sighed. “Somehow people like you always manage. And do you know what I did?”

From the corner of his eye, he could see Jin smiling proudly, a fond look in his eyes.

“I took his car keys, and then I jammed them really hard into his throat,” Jimin smiled. “There was blood everywhere, it was like I was bathing in it. I felt gross afterwards, but it was nice and warm while it was happening.” He paused for a moment, just remembering. “But that wasn’t enough. It just didn’t feel like enough, especially considering how mean he really wanted to be. I could see it in his eyes. The things he would have done to me, if given the chance. And so I took both hands, and I dragged the keys over,” Jimin sighed, mimicking the motion.

The man on the floor was crying now. He didn’t look much like the meanie Inspector Choi anymore, sobbing like a little baby.

“People like to ruin pretty things,” Jin said, shaking his head. “Stupid people.”

“Found it!” Taehyung bellowed as he re-entered the room, hammer in hand.

Jimin watched with obvious interest as Taehyung brought the flat of the hammer down on the inspector’s foot.

His scream was blood-curdling, crying even harder as he desperately tried to twist away from the source of his pain.

“Huh,” Jimin said. “You’re right, no blood at all this way…I admit I’m a little disappointed. Part of me likes it messy.”

“That’s because you’re a dirty little boy, Jimin,” Jin smirked.

“Look who’s talking, pervert,” Jimin muttered.

In a flash, Jin held a handful of Jimin’s hair, wrenching it back at a painful angle, causing him to stretch his neck backwards. Jimin whimpered as Jin brought his other hand to Jimin’s throat, fingernails digging sharply into his flesh. “What did I say?” Jin said.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin said immediately, trying to sound like he actually meant it. He hated when Jin was in a mood, because it always ended up ruining his own. “I’ll be good.”

“You get one warning,” Jin said, pressing a harsh kiss to his cheek, making Jimin wince with pain. Jin would never mark him permanently, but he’d locked Jimin away before, and Jimin nearly went crazy. He needed things to do. He needed stimulation. For him, boredom was a slow, torturous death.

“Jin hyung,” Taehyung whined in his deep baritone, “let Jiminnie off this once?” As if to distract Jin’s attention, he slammed the hammer down on the other foot. “Fingers too?” Taehyung said, tilting his head like an overeager puppy.

“Yeah,” Jimin mumbled, letting his sleeves slip past his fingers and hoping that his cuteness would be able to make up for his ugliness in Jin’s eyes. He couldn’t even bring himself to enjoy the show anymore, worried that Jin would still punish him for the perceived slight. Jimin didn’t even consider himself a sadist. It was just that bad people deserved bad things to happen to them, and he was so tired of people being mean.

He wondered if Inspector Jeon would be truly mean one day. They all seemed to turn out that way, eventually. But something about Inspector Jeon seemed different. His words and hands were rough, but his eyes were kind. Jimin could read him like an open book. He risked his career to help Jimin, risked being shunned by the other people at the station.

And he was pretty, too. Just as pretty as Jin. Floppy black hair and rounded cheeks, but a jaw that could cut steel. Broad shoulders and firm muscles, straight nose, cute lips. The hint of a dimple in his chin. Jin would destroy someone like that.

“Jimin, you aren’t paying attention, sweetheart,” Jin said, eyeing him curiously.

“Sorry, hyungie,” Jimin said sheepishly. “Things just started hurting a lot, all of a sudden,” he said, chewing on his lip so hard that the split re-opened. “I think he broke a rib or two.”

“Taehyung, make sure to return the favor,” Jin said sweetly.

Taehyung paused in his swinging, trying to shake the manic gleam from his eyes. “Ribs? You broke Minnie’s ribs?” he said angrily.

“Uh oh,” Jimin muttered, as Taehyung’s swings grew more forceful. “If you don’t stop him, he’ll end it quick,” Jimin warned, looking at Jin.

“Perhaps it’s for the best,” Jin said, looking tired suddenly.

They watched for a few more minutes until Taehyung became drenched in red, flinging blood with each lift of the hammer. “Tae Tae,” Jimin said. “I think he’s dead.”

“What? Already?” Taehyung blinked, looking down at the man who now resembled ground meat more than a human being. “Oh. Pizza?”

“Can I take a raincheck?” Jimin said. “Everything hurts. Maybe next week?”

“Sure, sure,” Taehyung said, dropping the hammer and letting it clatter against the floor. “But don’t forget, okay?”

“I’ll send in a cleaner,” Jin said. “Everything will be good as new tomorrow. In the meantime, did you want me to get you a hotel room to rest, sweetheart?”

“I…” Jimin trailed off, thinking. “No, I…I’ll stay at Seokie’s place, for now. I like how his guest room smells.”

“As you wish, darling,” Jin said, leaning down to brush his lips over Jimin’s forehead. “Fix your face soon. I hope you liked your present.”

Jimin mustered up enough will to fake happiness over his now-pervasive disinterest. “I loved it, hyung.”

As Jin and Taehyung left to take care of other business, Jimin quickly threw a few nights’ worth of clothes into a bag, disregarding whether they matched or not. It would probably be better to seem vulnerable, wouldn’t it? Like he had left in a hurry? To win over his trust?

He eyed himself in the bathroom mirror, fingers tracing the deep bruises. Pretty good, but probably not enough of an excuse to stay. Bracing himself, he slammed his forehead repeatedly into the bathroom tile. Dizzily, he returned to looking at himself in the mirror, a long gash now bleeding freely down his face. Jin wouldn’t like that at all, but he could come up with someone to blame.

It would be worth it to see the concern in Inspector Jeon’s eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

Recently enamored Park Jimin woke when Inspector Jeon answered his phone. Instead of getting up, he kept his eyes closed where he lay on the couch, listening.

“This is Jeon…What?...No…I haven’t seen him…No…What do you mean, _missing_?...Okay…Alright…I’ll let you know if I hear anything, Youngji-ssi…Alright…I’m sure everything will be okay, and he’ll turn up soon.”

Jimin fought to hide the smile that wanted to split his face. He heard footsteps approaching him, and so he made sure to twitch in his “sleep,” letting out a little fearful moan. “No…please…” he slurred, clutching the throw pillow tighter.

“Jimin,” Inspector Jeon said loudly.

“No…” Jimin continued, squeezing his eyes together.

“Jimin, wake up,” Inspector Jeon said firmly.

“Hmm?” Jimin groaned, slowly blinking his eyes and stretching his arms over his head to make sure a strip of stomach skin was exposed. “What is it?”

“Choi’s missing,” Jungkook said, expression thunderous. “What did you do?”

“Huh?” Jimin said meekly, making sure to furrow his brow in confusion. “What are you talking about? Jungkook, I’ve spent all my time the last few days here! I promised you I wouldn’t tell, didn’t I? And I didn’t!”

Jungkook considered him, probably trying to decide if he was lying.

“I didn’t do anything!” Jimin insisted. “Jinnie…Jinnie got mad at me because I wouldn’t tell him where I was, and then he…” Jimin sniffled for extra effect, brushing his hand over the bandage on the side of his forehead. Like Jin would ever raise a hand to one of his own artworks. “He was mean to me, and I just…I just had to leave…He’s going to be so mad when I go home.”

Jungkook sighed, sitting down on the coffee table in front of Jimin like he had the first time Jimin had spent the night.

“You know you shouldn’t let him treat you this way,” Jungkook said, large brown eyes tracing the bandage and the bruises on Jimin’s face. “You may be an asshole, but no one deserves to be hit.”

“Jungkook…” Jimin said, forcing tears into his eyes. The man was too noble for his own good. Jimin wondered what expression he would wear if Jimin tore his world out from under him. Then again, he did look very pretty when he was being all principled.

“I’m serious,” Jungkook said. “People like that only get worse.” It was true, but if anything, Jin only got more protective over his collection. “One day he’ll turn on you completely, and you won’t be as lucky to get away with only a few bruises.”

“But what choice do I have?” Jimin said, playing up the desperation. “If I leave, he’ll kill me. He owns everyone and everything.” Everything pretty, anyway. “I belong to him—“

“No human being belongs to another,” Jungkook said, disgust filling his voice.

“Oh, but Kim Seokjin isn’t human,” Jimin said quietly. “Maybe he used to be. But there’s not any humanity left anymore.”

“You talk about him like he has magic powers, or something,” Jungkook said.

“Money is magic,” Jimin replied. “Didn’t you know that?”

Jungkook sighed, gaze despondent as he stared at Jimin. “Why does he have so much control over you?”

Jimin smiled. “People who look like me don’t tend to last very long on their own. I guess we just happened to meet at the right place and the right time. Jinnie collects people like others collect comic books. He surrounds himself with pretty things, and he hates everything ugly. If he hadn’t seen me through the dirt and the grime, then I would probably have died a long time ago.”

“How can you say that with a smile on your face?” Jungkook said.

“Because Jinnie is a cruel man…but he can be kind. He’s always doing nice things for me, buying expensive things for me, making sure I’m safe…”

“Beating you?” Jungkook said, quirking an eyebrow. “Stop rationalizing it, Jimin!” If only Jungkook knew that Jin had never harmed a hair on his head.

“But he’s all I have…” Jimin whispered. “You don’t understand the position I’m in. If he even suspects that I might leave, he…He’ll add me to the collection that I’m really trying to avoid.” Jimin personally thought the heads were disgusting, but he wasn’t going to say that in front of Jin, who always seemed so proud of them. He was never particularly worried about becoming one, because he would never leave Jin. Never betray Jin.

“He’s not all you have,” Jungkook said, eyes shining with determination. “If you honestly want to get out, I’ll help you. I'll help you do whatever it takes to turn your life around! Just…” he sighed, frustrated. “Stop doing all these bad things. You don’t have to fight for survival, Jimin. In fact, there’s plenty of people who would be willing to help you start over.”

“Start over?” Jimin repeated, smiling wryly. How naïve this pretty boy was. It was endearing. “You’re so sweet, Inspector Jeon. You’re willing to believe in me, even though I’ve lied to you?”

Jungkook sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Even if you’re lying right now, how are you supposed to be a good person if no one is willing to give you a chance? I’ll take the fucking bullet. Just don’t go back to him.”

For the first time in his life, Jimin was lost for words.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Jimin finally blurted.

“What?” Jungkook said, taken aback.

“It’s this face,” Jimin said, laughing, eyes scrunching up into crescents. “This face has made a lot of people believe a lot of things. It’s too pretty, isn’t it? People want it. They want to be a part of it, or they want to ruin it, or they want to own it. But, Inspector Jeon…” Jimin said, a teasing lilt in his voice, “do you know how many people have died because of it?”

Jungkook’s body tensed for a moment, before there was a sharp set of knocks at the door. He looked torn, unsure of whether to stay or go, but ultimately he got up and went to open it.

“Can I help—“ Jimin heard, before Jungkook was stumbling back into the living room, clutching at his temple. “What the fuck?” Jungkook growled, reaching for something, Jimin assumed his weapon.

“Ahh, ahh, ahh,” Taehyung said.

Jungkook’s eyes wavered as he glanced at Jimin, clenching his teeth before he withdrew his hand. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Kick it over here, handsome,” Taehyung said, amused.

Jimin could guess the situation. Taehyung probably had a gun, and he probably had it pointed at Jimin. Jungkook was the only one who didn’t know that Taehyung would never hurt Jimin in a million years.

Jungkook practically growled as he slid his revolver across the floor.

“So old school,” Taehyung said, a scraping indicating he’d picked it up. “Jimin, I missed you! You still owe me pizza!” Jungkook’s eyes widened.

“Is this where you’ve been hiding?” Jin said, voice unimpressed.

Jimin stood from the couch to face him, a manic gleam in his eyes as his smile grew even wider. “You found me,” Jimin said, timid voice belying his expression.

Jin’s nostrils flared in disgust as he examined the tiny apartment, eyes settling for a moment too long on Inspector Jeon Jungkook. Jimin huffed in amusement. Good. It was what he had wanted all along. He just needed Jin to take an organic interest first.  

“Yah!” Jungkook said sharply. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Kim Seokjin,” Jin said, mouth quirking at the way Jungkook paled. “Pleasure.”

Jimin rounded the couch and slunk over to Jin, pushing onto his toes to wrap his arms around Jin’s neck and whisper into Jin’s ear. “Isn’t he pretty, Jinnie hyung?”

Jin gave him an annoyed look, realization dawning. “Is this why you made me hunt all over this godforsaken town for you?”

“Hurt me,” Jimin breathed against the shell of Jin’s ear. “Hurt me, and I can make him mine. And then he’ll be yours, Jinnie.”

Jin considered his options for a moment, and Jimin could see the conflict in his eyes. But Jimin wasn’t worried, because he knew Jin loved a good game as much as he did. “You’re lucky you’re ugly right now,” Jin said softly, before fisting a handful of Jimin’s hair and throwing him to the floor.

Taehyung, who didn’t know what was going on, actually squeaked in surprise. Jimin knew he’d never seen Jin hurt him, ever, because he never had. He really would owe him that pizza later.

“Hyung, please!” Jimin begged, crawling pathetically to his knees as he clutched at his ribs, which really did hurt like a bitch. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I was just scared, and—“

Jimin pretended that the kick Jin aimed at his side was a lot harder than it actually was, moaning in pain as he let a few tears slip down his cheeks. “Please, stop! I’m sorry! Please!”

“Hyung,” Taehyung said uncertainly, taking a step forward.

“Know your place, Taehyung,” Jin warned, tone threatening. Jimin knew Taehyung would pay for that later.

“Leave him alone!” Jungkook said, eyeing the gun still aimed at him.

“And why should I do that, sweetheart?” Jin said, face brimming with false compassion. “He’s mine, and I can do what I want with him. Besides, he’s a whore for the attention.”

Jimin rolled his eyes under the fringe of hair he’d let fall into his face. Well, he wasn’t wrong. “Hyung, hyung please don’t,” Jimin said, winking up at Jin who towered over him.

“You’re disgusting!” Jungkook said. “He’s half your size, you don’t need to hurt him!”

“Well, of course I don’t _need_ to,” Jin said, smiling. “But the fact is that I _want_ to, and that’s really all that matters.” He crouched in front of Jimin, much like he had with the meanie a few nights ago, fingers caressing Jimin’s neck. Jimin figured that his neck was probably Jin’s favorite part of him. He didn’t know why, but his hyung was a strange guy. “Choke,” Jin said, voice low so only Jimin could hear.

“Jin! Jin hyung! _Please_!” Jimin pleaded, nodding curtly.

Jin’s hands began to squeeze lightly, and Jimin pretended to put up a fight, scrambling his legs against the floor, hands coming up to wrap around Jin’s wrists.

“Stop it!” Jungkook shouted, eyes watering in frustration as he could only stand there and watch little, sweet Jimin be strangled to death by the big, bad wolf.

“Tch,” Jin huffed, throwing Jimin to the floor again. Jimin pretended to sob so hard that he might have actually been sobbing at one point, coughing and retching as he clutched at his throat.

“Hyung,” Jimin whined weakly. “I’ll be good! I’ll be good! I promise! I promise!”

“But you’re a liar, Jimin,” Jin said sweetly. “You were born a liar, and you’ll die a liar. Such a pretty liar, though,” he reached out to pull Jimin’s hair again.

“Get your fucking hands off of him!” Jungkook raged.  

“Have you been fucking around already?” Jin said with raised eyebrows. “Is that why he’s so worried? That he won’t get to have you anymore?” Jin smirked. “Does he treat you like you’re special? Whisper sweet nothings in your ear so that you can pretend you’re worth something?”

“No, no hyung!” Jimin shook his head frantically, Jin’s still-grabbing fingers tearing out some pink hair. “I don’t want anyone but y-you! Only you! Please…please…”

“You’re disgusting,” Jin said. Raising his free hand, Jimin saw the moment of hesitation before Jin struck him across the face. Jin dropped his head, then, returning to stand back by Taehyung, who was practically in tears himself. His eyes lingered on Jungkook again, tracing the lines of his face. “Enjoy the trash,” Jin smiled, jerking his head at Taehyung as they made for the door.

“Ugh, I’ll just leave this here,” Taehyung said, dropping the revolver back on the floor. His eyes wandered to Jimin as he blanched. “I’ll see you later, Minnie…”

Th second the door shut, Jungkook was running over to his revolver, cursing as he checked the barrel and saw that Taehyung had removed the bullets. Throwing it back down, he stumbled over to Jimin and dropped to his knees, hands hovering worriedly.

Jimin did his best to only stare at the floor, one hand clutching at his cheek. Do not smile. Do not smile. Do not smile.

“Jimin?” Jungkook said softly.

“He hates me,” Jimin said, voice cracking.

“Who the fuck cares?” Jungkook said angrily.

“How am I supposed to live without him?” Jimin said, tears streaming down his cheeks again. He would need eye drops after this Oscar-winning performance. “I d-don’t have anything of my own, it all belongs to him—“

“You have me!” Jungkook said, reaching a hesitant hand out to brush against Jimin’s reddening cheek. “I meant what I said before! Whatever you’ve done, I’ll help you! I’ll do whatever it takes, so—“ Jungkook cut himself off, running a hand over his face. “Don’t go back to him…please? You don’t deserve pain.”

Jimin set his bottom lip in a wobble. “You’re only saying that because I’m pathetic! You don’t care about me at all!”

“Jimin,” Jungkook said, hesitating. “That’s not…that’s not true, okay? I do care. I care way more than I fucking should about you.”

Jimin crumpled, hiding a smile as he threw himself into Jungkook’s arms. Rather than push him away, Jungkook willingly wrapped his arms around Jimin’s back, holding him tightly.

Checkmate.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me, info, and previews at freebullets.tumblr.com


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